Thou Shall Not Covet Thy Neighbors' Candy

Passover and The Ten Commandments go together like bagels and cream cheese... if we were allowed to eat bagels on Passover. Not just because the four-hour DeMille film airs every year, but because The Ten Commandments were given to us after the Jews' great escape from Egypt.

As far as The Big Ten go, I'm good with don't murder and I'm down with don't steal, but every Passover that tricky Tenth Commandment taunts me.

Easter and Passover are based on the same lunar calendar, so the two holidays always coincide. That means for one week each spring, grocery stores display both a Passover aisle, bragging pulverized horseradish and overpriced jarred herring, and an Easter aisle, stocked with colorful baskets, fluffy ducklings, and a mountain of candy. And at the top of that confectionery Mt. Sinai? The Cadbury Creme Egg.

I'd go Passover shopping with my parents and eye the foil-wrapped eggs with envy as my mom threw a fifth box of farfel in our shopping cart. What I wouldn't do for just one Cadbury egg! Let my candy go!

But my parents took Passover laws to the letter. And Cadbury Creme Eggs weren't Kosher for Passover. They contained ingredients we couldn't eat that week. No Rabbinic stamp of approval; no egg for me. Not only couldn't I eat a Cadbury Creme Egg during Passover, I couldn't store chametz* in the house and eat it post Passover. And after the holiday? They were off the shelves. Like the Jews who fled Egypt, the Cadbury Creme Eggs were gone.

In fairness, it's not like Passover was a candy-free zone. I got to choose between chocolate covered matzah, Manischewitz chocolate pops, and Joya dark chocolate covered raspberry rings. That couldn't be all you say? You're right. I forgot about the rainbow fruit slices. And gefilte fish on a stick...

The Passover Haggadah speaks of The Four Children: the wise son, the wicked son, the simple son, and the daughter who didn't know enough not to covet Cadbury. I wish I could tell you why the egg was the object of my obsession. It's not like I craved all Easter candy. I never longed for peanut butter eggs, hollow chocolate bunnies, or marshmallow Peeps in every sugar-coated shape and color. I only had eyes for the egg. Something about the way the thick milk chocolate coating gives way to that creamy white filling which gives way to a sunny yellow center. It's like no other candy out there -- there's no nougat, no peanuts, no 80 percent organic cacao. The Cadbury Creme Egg is singular in its existence... until now.

That's right, you heard it here first. Ladies and gentleman, breaking live on the Huffington Post: Rather than continue to spend Passover coveting Cadbury's Creme Egg, I've decided to create my own candy. A Kosher homage to Cadbury.

I present to you: Carinbury's Crème Ball... Matzah Creme Ball, that is. It's round instead of oval, completely Kosher for Passover, and based on the balls Bubbe used to boil. This candy brags a delicious Passover-approved pareve chocolate coating, gooey white filling that got a Rabbinic thumbs up, and a chametz-less yellow center (which, um, symbolically reminds us of, uh, the hot sun our ancestors slaved under). And the taste? Even Pharaoh couldn't have said "no, no, no" to it.

Now Jewish children everywhere can stop bending The Tenth Commandment. No need to covet thou neighbors candy. No reason to envy their Easter delights. In fact, all you kids stuck holding Cadbury Creme Eggs -- who's coveting now? You wish you were eating a Carinbury's Matzah Creme Ball. Looks like you're getting Passed-Over in the candy category this year.